The Turncoat General’s Dilemma
In the turbulent transition from the Ming to the Qing dynasty, few figures embody the complexities of loyalty and betrayal like Wu Sangui. This Ming general turned Qing prince had already cemented his place in history through his controversial decisions, most notably opening the Shanhai Pass to Manchu forces in 1644, an act that facilitated the Qing conquest of China. For three decades, Wu served his new masters, rising to become one of the most powerful regional governors under the early Qing administration. By 1673, however, the aging general found himself at another crossroads, facing the young Kangxi Emperor’s determination to centralize power by eliminating the semi-independent fiefdoms of the Three Feudatories. Wu’s subsequent rebellion would become one of the most dramatic chapters in Qing history, a conflict that nearly toppled the still-young dynasty.
Crafting the Righteous Manifesto
Understanding the importance of justification for military action, Wu Sangui assembled his literary talents to produce a stirring proclamation against the Qing regime. These scholars meticulously drafted and refined what would become a masterful piece of political propaganda. Issued nationwide in Wu’s name, the document displayed exceptional literary craftsmanship and rhetorical power, positioning its author as a righteous champion rather than a self-serving rebel.
The proclamation skillfully wove together several themes designed to resonate with Han Chinese sentiments. It portrayed Wu’s thirty years of Qing service as a calculated strategy—a patient waiting game during which he allegedly nurtured plans to restore the Ming dynasty. This narrative conveniently ignored his direct role in the execution of the last Ming claimant, the Yongli Emperor, whom Wu had captured and put to death in 1662. The manifesto further claimed that Wu had been secretly protecting the “Third Ming Prince,” preparing him for restoration, though no such prince existed in his custody.
The Grandiose Claims and Contradictions
The proclamation’s most audacious elements revealed its propagandistic nature. Wu declared himself the leader of a massive force of 3.6 million soldiers—a wildly exaggerated figure meant to intimidate the Qing court and inspire potential supporters. He positioned his rebellion as a response to Qing misrule, claiming to act on behalf of suffering millions oppressed by Manchu domination.
Yet the document contained glaring contradictions that undermined its credibility. While professing dedication to Ming restoration, Wu had already established his own “Great Zhou” dynasty with its own reign period, revealing his personal imperial ambitions. This tension between stated motives and actual actions would become a persistent weakness in his political positioning throughout the rebellion.
The Systematic Suppression of Memory
Unlike later rebel manifestos, such as those issued during the Taiping Rebellion, Wu Sangui’s proclamation suffered near-total eradication from the historical record. Qing official histories merely reference the existence of a “false proclamation” without preserving its contents. This absence resulted from deliberate and systematic suppression across three reigns—Kangxi, Yongzheng, and Qianlong—during which the Qing state exercised extreme control over historical narrative through literary inquisition and censorship.
The document’s disappearance reflects how threatening its contents proved to the Qing establishment. The proclamation reportedly contained scathing criticisms of Qing rule and referenced sensitive historical events from the regency of Dorgon that the Manchu rulers wished to forget. The authorities worked relentlessly to eliminate every copy, with devastating consequences for those caught preserving them. As late as the Qianlong era, scholar Duan Changxu and his entire family were executed for possessing a copy of the seditious document. That any fragments survived this systematic suppression testifies to the proclamation’s initial widespread distribution and lingering underground circulation.
The Swift Southern Uprising
The proclamation achieved its immediate purpose of triggering widespread rebellion across southern China. As Wu’s forces mobilized, his former subordinates in Guizhou, Sichuan, Hunan, and Shaanxi provinces rose in coordinated response. In Yunnan, Wu’s power base, the transition unfolded with remarkable speed. With few exceptions—such as Judicial Commissioner Li Xingyuan, Prefect Gao Xianchen, and Subprefect Liu Kun, who chose death over defection—the Qing administrative and military apparatus in Yunnan swiftly transferred allegiance to Wu’s new regime.
Senior officials including Provincial Military Commander Zhang Guozhu, Yongbei Brigade General Du Hui, Heqing Brigade General Ke Ze, Provincial Administration Commissioner Cui Zhiying, and Education Intendant Guo Chang all accepted appointments in Wu’s “Great Zhou” government. This rapid consolidation of power in the southwest demonstrated both Wu’s careful preparation and the lingering resentment toward Qing rule among Han Chinese officials serving in formerly Ming territories.
Forging a War Machine
Rebellion required more than declarations and political support—it demanded military organization. Wu quickly established a sophisticated command structure that consciously echoed Ming military traditions. He created four Capital Guard generals , establishing a clear chain of command.
Most revealing were the eight expeditionary generals he designated: Conquest of the North, Subjugation of the North, Overthrow of the North, Destruction of the North, Annihilation of the North, Crushing of the North, Suppression of the North, and Pacification of the North. The repetitive use of “North” (朔) specifically targeted the Manchus, whose homeland lay northeast of China proper. The aggressive verbs preceding each title—conquest, destruction, annihilation—left no doubt about Wu’s ultimate objective: the complete elimination of Qing rule.
The White Banner Advance
On the first day of the twelfth month in the twelfth year of the Kangxi reign , Wu launched his northern expedition. In a powerful symbolic gesture, his troops carried white banners and wore white-covered helmets, mourning colors traditionally used in Chinese funerary practice. This visual presentation served dual purposes: it memorialized the executed Yongli Emperor, reinforcing Wu’s claim to be avenging the Ming, while simultaneously creating a striking visual identity that distinguished his forces from the banner system of the Qing military.
This white army marched northward with initial success, its combination of military professionalism and righteous symbolism proving effective both in battle and in winning local support. The rebellion quickly spread beyond the southwest, threatening Qing control over much of southern China and testing the mettle of the young Kangxi Emperor’s regime.
The Imperial Court Learns of Rebellion
The Qing court initially remained unaware of the gathering storm. According to the Veritable Records of the Qing Shengzu, the shocking news reached Beijing on December 21, 1673, when two officials—Party Affairs Secretary Dang Wuli and Finance Ministry Official Sa Muha—staggered into the Ministry of War after a desperate ride from the southwest.
These officials had been dispatched to Guizhou to arrange logistics for Wu’s planned relocation in compliance with the emperor’s order to dismantle the feudatories. Instead, they encountered Yun-Gui Governor Gan Wenkun, who had just intercepted a secret letter from Guizhou Military Commander Li Benchen to Provincial Governor Cao Shenji, revealing the conspiracy. Gan immediately recognized the danger and instructed the two officials to race back to Beijing while he attempted to organize resistance.
The messengers arrived exhausted, nearly falling from their horses, temporarily unable to speak from fatigue and stress. Ministry officials revived them with water and acupressure until Dang Wuli could deliver the earth-shattering news: “Wu Sangui has rebelled!”
The Tragedy of Governor Gan
While the messengers survived to deliver their warning, Governor Gan Wenkun met a tragic end. Before fleeing, he ordered his concubines and seven female relatives to hang themselves—a grim precaution against the dishonor they might suffer if captured. He then escaped with his fourth son, Gan Guocheng, and a small guard of ten soldiers, hoping to reach Hubei and organize defensive positions to contain Wu’s forces within Guizhou.
The desperate flight ended at Zhenyuan, where the local garrison had already defected to Wu. Trapped at Jixiang Temple, surrounded by rebel soldiers, father and son chose suicide over capture. The son requested to die first, taking his father’s sword to cut his own throat before handing the weapon back to his father. Gan Wenkun then followed his son in death.
The Qing historical records, compiled by loyalists, portray this tragedy as heroic martyrdom. While their deaths indeed demonstrated courage, the grim reality was that Qing law mandated execution for officials who lost territory, whether through military failure or surrender. By choosing death, the Gan family至少 preserved their lineage from imperial punishment—a calculated decision in an era when rebellion threatened not just individuals but their entire clans.
The Shockwaves Reach Beijing
News of Wu’s rebellion and Gan’s death sent shockwaves through the Qing court. The Kangxi Emperor, then just nineteen years old, faced what would become the greatest crisis of his long reign. The initial success of Wu’s rebellion revealed the fragility of Qing control beyond the capital region and tested the loyalty of Han Chinese officials throughout the administration.
The court’s response would ultimately determine the fate of the dynasty. Kangxi’s handling of the crisis—his military appointments, strategic decisions, and political maneuvering—would demonstrate the remarkable capabilities that would characterize his sixty-year reign. The Revolt of the Three Feudatories had begun in earnest, launching eight years of destructive warfare that would rage across much of southern China before finally concluding with Qing victory and the consolidation of Manchu rule for another two centuries.
Cultural Legacy and Historical Interpretation
Wu Sangui’s rebellion represents more than a military conflict—it embodies enduring questions about loyalty, legitimacy, and historical memory in Chinese political culture. His transformation from Ming defender to Qing collaborator to rebel leader illustrates the complex calculations that officials faced during dynastic transitions. The deliberate eradication of his proclamation demonstrates the power of historical censorship and the political determination to control narrative.
The rebellion also highlighted ongoing tensions between Manchu rulers and their Han Chinese subjects a generation after the conquest. While many Han officials remained loyal to the Qing, others saw in Wu’s rebellion an opportunity to restore native rule—or at least to improve their positions within the existing system. This complex interplay of ethnic and political allegiance would continue to influence Qing politics long after the rebellion’s suppression.
Modern historians continue to debate Wu’s legacy. Some view him as the ultimate opportunist, whose actions were consistently self-serving rather than principled. Others see a more tragic figure, caught between conflicting loyalties in an era of tremendous upheaval. What remains undeniable is his impact on Chinese history—both through his fateful decision to admit the Manchus in 1644 and through his failed rebellion that ultimately strengthened the dynasty he had helped establish and then sought to destroy.
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